The Laws of Ilyria - 13/17
Title: The Laws of Ilyria (13/17)
Author: radiogaga33
Pairing: Adam/Tommy, Adam/Kris (friendship)
Setting: Fantasy AU
Rating: NC-17 (NC-17 overall)
Word Count: ~7500
Beta: sweet_poeia
Disclaimers: No claims to any copyrights, trademarks, or any other intellectual property. I do not own these characters. They belong to themselves. This is purely a work of fiction. It never happened.
Author’s Notes: Yet another chapter with a lot happening. You'll notice that I've now added a chapter count. There are four chapters left to go after this one.
Warnings: Pseudo-slavefic.
Summary: Adam is a conquering king hell-bent on revenge against the ruler who destroyed his life as a child. He ends up taking the ruler’s son, Tommy, as tribute after winning the war between the kingdoms. Events unfold.
The Laws of Ilyria
Chapter 13
Adam, Lord Lambert, King of Elysia and Supreme Protector of Ilyria, was living on borrowed time, and he knew it.
He woke up each morning inundated by wild and contradictory thoughts, by memories of the last twenty years and new ones of the past few months on the road between Troainus and Elysia. He spent each day’s march in a state of agitation, mind whirling feverishly, breath tight and painful in his chest and gaze searching the horizon, waiting to see if the inevitable had finally happened, waiting to see if today was the day that the unmistaken silhouette of Runners carrying news would appear in the distance.
The Elysian caravan had been marching for nearly four months now, and Adam knew that soon enough, Lord Ratliff would die-if he wasn’t dead already. A part of him wanted to rejoice at that thought, wanted to exalt in the imminent culmination of his plan for revenge. The part of him that had stood weeping before his mother’s funeral pyre and had vowed retribution longed for the death of the king. But the other part of him, the one that lived and died by a certain prince’s moods, the one that now saw beauty in everything, dreaded Lord Ratliff’s demise. They warred constantly, those two halves, pulling at him, driving him half-mad each day as he watched and waited.
A new day found him sitting up in his bed at the break of dawn, eyes dark and gaze somber in the dimly-lit space of his tent, and shoulders slumped, the broad expanse of them weighed down by the thoughts colliding in his skull. He stiffened momentarily when a soft sigh reached his ears and the body next to his shifted restlessly beneath the velvet bed covering.
Tommy. As always, the thought of this man calmed him for a moment, filling him with happiness and peace and something else as well, something Adam wasn’t ready to admit to himself yet, let alone allow to crystallize into a concrete thought.
They had been living together as committed lovers for a week now, and in those seven days they’d discovered things about each other that amused and annoyed and delighted in equal measure. Tommy was neat and organized, almost obsessively so, and Adam, as he’d been informed in an exasperated tone, was untidy and forgetful. Tommy liked to sleep in the dark, and Adam preferred to keep the lamp blazing through the night. Adam talked in his sleep but slept still as a stone, while Tommy said nothing but shifted and turned for hours on end, jerking Adam awake more than once in the course of a night.
But they compromised, one bending for the other, both willing to change little things to please the other. That was why they now slept with the lamp turned low, just enough light to satisfy Adam and just enough darkness to please Tommy. That was why Adam now made a concerted effort to close the lids of the chests in his tent, to re-cork bottles and to leave his mud-caked sandals by the entrance. It was also the reason why Tommy turned a blind eye to the occasional piles of odds and ends strewn across the bedside table and even one day, left their clothes unfolded on the ground all night.
No matter what, each discovery was welcome, and each compromise eagerly embraced. There was nothing too great for Adam to do for the man who was very quickly becoming the focus of all his thoughts, and the center of his world. Weeks ago, he had mused that he would move heaven and earth if Tommy willed it so, but now he knew for a fact that he would. He would do anything to keep that playful little smile directed his way, to hear the childlike wonder in Tommy’s laughter.
And how they laughed. For a man who’d spent the last ten years of his life waging war, it was an unexpected reward, the laughter they shared so easily. Adam had laughed with Kristopher, of course, but not like this. As he’d recently discovered, to laugh with one’s lover was different from laughing with a friend. To share laugher like this, mirth threaded through with heat and intimacy, was something else entirely, something mesmerizing and intoxicating, something Adam would never get his fill of.
He’d realized it the night after they’d finally made love. That evening, at Adam’s invitation, Tommy had shown up with the only things he had, and Adam had taken one look at the miserable bundle of dull blue broadcloth and wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“It’s not so bad,” Tommy had said with a smile as he placed the neat, if unfashionable, bundle atop one of the chests in the tent.
“No, it’s not bad,” Adam replied, “it’s awful.”
Tommy chuckled briefly before replying. “I never heard you complain before,” he said with mock indignation.
“I was trying to woo you before. Now, that I’ve got you, I don’t have to hold my tongue any longer,” Adam replied with a cheeky grin, earning himself a laugh from Tommy.
“Is that so? Well, at least you’re honest,” Tommy replied with a wide grin. “But really, we can’t all be bastions of fashion like you.” He gestured at the chests in the tent. “Why you travel with so many things, I’ll never know.”
“I’ve been at war for ten years and I could’ve died at any time. And I thought to myself, ‘well, if I die, at least I shall do it well dressed.’”
That earned him another laugh, a sweet little trill of sound that filled Adam with happiness. But eventually, Tommy’s expression had turned somber and he’d pulled Adam to sit with him on the bed.
“Don’t talk of dying again,” he’d pleaded softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Neither do I.”
That had been six days ago. Since then, Adam had had new clothes made for Tommy by the workmen who travelled with the Elysian army. The tunics were cut from richer cloth and held together by soft leather belts, but they were all dyed the same blue that marked a worker-slave. As much as Adam wanted to see Tommy wear a different color, as much as he wanted to see Tommy wear the vibrant burgundy that marked the Elysian crest, he didn’t dare flout tradition. So, he’d smiled instead as Tommy admired the new clothes and thanked him, all the while trying not to think about what it meant for him to want so desperately to see Tommy draped in burgundy brocade instead of blue cotton.
“You’re doing it again.”
The mumbled words jerked Adam out of his reverie. He’d been looking down at Tommy for several minutes, eyes heavy-lidded in the dim light and staring blindly. Tommy’s head was pressed against his pillow and his face was turned in Adam’s direction, but his eyes remained tightly shut.
“Doing what?” Adam asked softly, even though he already knew what Tommy meant.
“You’re watching me sleep.”
“So what?”
“You have to stop. It’s strange.” Tommy drew out the sound of the word, lying perfectly still, with his eyes shut.
His sleep-roughened voice made Adam smile where he sat, looking down. “What if I can’t stop?” Adam asked. “What if I have to keep staring because I still can’t believe that you’re real, that you’re really here with me?”
Adam meant for the words to be light and casual, completely in jest. But as he spoke them, they transformed into something else entirely, something far more serious, taking on shadows of the thoughts that had been plaguing Adam long before Tommy woke up. The unexpected seriousness of his tone must have been palpable, because the moment Adam was done speaking, Tommy opened his eyes and shifted onto his side to face Adam in the bed.
“Is something troubling you?”
Adam hesitated.
“You know you can tell me anything and I’ll listen.”
“I know.”
“So, tell me, is something wrong?”
“No.” Adam swallowed hard, trying to displace the choking sensation the lie created as it fell from his lips.
Tommy stared at him intently for a long moment, seemingly debating whether or not to push further, to find the truth behind the thinly-veiled falsehood. Finally, his features relaxed and he sat up in the bed, still facing Adam.
“Give me your hand.”
The request confused Adam but he obeyed all the same, holding out his left hand. Tommy grasped Adam’s hand tightly and brought it to his chest, holding it there with his own right hand.
“Do you feel that?” he asked. Adam did. He felt the heat of Tommy’s skin and the steady drumbeat of his heart. Adam closely his eyes briefly and let the sensation of it seep into his own body, quieting the careening thoughts for a short while. It was only a moment’s reprieve, but Adam was willing to take anything he was offered.
“Yes,” Adam replied when he opened his eyes.
“See? I’m right here. I’m right here with you.” Tommy pressed his left hand to Adam’s chest, right over his heart like Adam’s hand was pressed over his. “Just like you are right here with me.”
Oracle, help me. Adam stared into Tommy’s eyes, taking in the earnest, caring expression he saw there. Did Tommy even realize what he was doing? Did he recognize the way they were seated facing each other, with their hands pressed against each other’s hearts at the same time? It was the beginning of the Ilyrian marriage rite. Four simple declarations and they could be joined together in the Oracle’s grace. For a moment, Adam let himself envision it. He imagined Tommy whispering “I marry you” three times and himself replying “I accept.”
“Adam?”
The vision dissolved. Adam shook himself free of the last ghostly shadows of it and flashed Tommy what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
“Come now. You should go back to sleep. It won’t be too long now before the morning bell is rung.”
“You’re right,” Tommy said as he settled back down into bed. “You need to sleep as well,” he declared before tugging Adam down beside him. Adam let himself be pulled down and rearranged so that Tommy’s head rested against his chest and Adam’s left arm was slung around Tommy’s shoulders.
Within minutes, Tommy was fast asleep again. Adam listened to the small noises he made as he slept and let the sweet little sounds overtake him, crowding out the worrying thoughts that had kept him awake before. In the morning. I’ll tell him tomorrow morning, he thought to himself sleepily, willfully ignoring the fact that dawn was breaking and that “tomorrow” was already “today.”
Adam didn’t tell Tommy in the morning. Or any other morning for that matter. For the first time in twenty years, he was truly afraid. He’d confessed as much to Tommy that night, a few weeks ago, only Tommy didn’t completely understand why. And Adam wanted so desperately to keep it that way, because the moment Tommy knew everything, the moment the Runners arrived with the news, everything between them would shatter. There was only so much Tommy could forgive Adam for.
Adam didn’t want it to end, this thing between them. He didn’t want to do without Tommy’s easy laughter, without the way Tommy looked at him, especially in those moments after the nightmares that had started coming more frequently now. The first time, Tommy had fetched Kristopher immediately and stood to the side while Kristopher held him. But after that, Tommy had soothed Adam himself, holding him until the darkness fell away, and all the while looking at Adam like he was the most treasured thing in the world. Adam had had his fair share of lovers, some for days, and others for months, but none had ever made him feel like this, like it was alright to reveal his weaknesses, like it was alright to trust completely, like anything-everything-was possible. Adam wasn’t ready to let go.
“You know, Adam, sometimes I wish you hadn’t made that boy your page.”
Adam turned to Kristopher in surprise. The caravan had made night camp three hours ago, and they were seated at a table outside Adam’s tent watching Tommy laughing as he and Longineu kicked a ball back and forth between them.
“Why do you say that? Has Longineu done something to displease you?”
“Of course not. Quite the contrary in fact. He’s a charming child. But seeing him here, laughing and playing, well, it makes me miss my own child that much more.”
Adam’s lips curled into a small, sad smile as he thought of his friend’s daughter. When they’d left Elysia two years ago, she’s been three years old. And already a wild little thing, with her father’s soft brown eyes and her mother’s honey-blonde hair.
“I’m sorry to keep you away from Isolde for so long.”
Kris frowned at him from across the table. “What are you sorry for? You’ve done nothing. This is the path we chose, you and I. And everyone knows a soldier’s life is no easy thing.”
“All the same, I’m sorry. But in a few days, we’ll arrive in Syriana, and in two months after that, we’ll be in Elysia and you’ll be with your wife and daughter again. For good this time. This campaign of mine is finished. There’ll be no more battles for us unless an enemy brings a war to our doorstep. It all ended in Troianus. It’s all over.”
“Is it? Is it really over?”
“What do you mean?”
Kristopher gestured in Tommy’s direction. “Have you told him yet?”
Adam visibly colored at Kristopher’s question. “What do you think?”
“Do you plan on telling him?”
“How would I tell him? Enlighten me, Kristopher. Explain to me how to go about telling my lover that his father is going to die-that he may already be dead-and that I caused it.”
“You’ll find a way.”
“I don’t see how when I don’t even know…I don’t even….” Adam voice trailed off.
“What do you want?” Kristopher asked after a few moments of silence. “Do you still want Lord Ratliff dead?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know! Sometimes I think I want him dead. My mother died because of what he did. And I couldn’t have spent ten years planning and then ten more years waging war across the six kingdoms only to discover in the end that what I desired all my life is no longer what I truly want.”
Adam ran a hand through his hair in an agitated gesture and sighed loudly. “But sometimes, I look at Tommy and I think ‘Lord Ratliff can live forever for all I care.’ I look at him and I realize that my revenge no longer matters because Tommy is more important. His happiness is more important to me than Lord Ratliff’s death. If anyone dared to harm so much as a single hair on Tommy’s head, I would cut that man down where he stood, and yet here I am, poised to do the greatest damage. And I swear to you, Kristopher, sometimes I can’t stand to look at myself in the mirror.”
It was Kristopher’s turn to sigh, it seemed. “Maybe…maybe you could send him back?”
“What would that accomplish? Lord Ratliff is most likely dead already. And even if he isn’t, he will be soon enough. We left Troianus four months ago. By now, every last person in the six kingdoms knows that Lord Ratliff was forced to give up his son. Everyone knows that the old king is finished, including his older sons. They will kill him whether Tommy returns or not, you know that. I pronounced Lord Ratliff’s death sentence the moment I took Tommy as tribute. Sending him back would accomplish nothing.”
“Then you have to tell him everything.”
“He’ll hate me.”
“Adam-”
“Kristopher, he’ll hate me. He’ll wonder if he ever really knew me at all. He’ll question everything I’ve ever said, everything I’ve ever done. He’ll think it was all an elaborate ruse, and he’ll hate me for it.”
“Or maybe he’ll forgive you.”
“There’s only so much a man can forgive. And Tommy has forgiven me plenty already. You know that. You were there.”
“He forgave you then and he’ll forgive you now.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“He loves you.”
Adam stared at Kristopher in shock. Then he let out a bitter laugh and shook his head sadly.
“Your longing for home must have driven you insane already. That would be the only reason I can think of for why you would say such a ridiculous thing.”
Kristopher stared at Adam for a long moment, seemingly on the verge of saying something more. He must have thought better of it because he leaned back finally and let out a wry smile.
“Maybe so,” Kristopher said.
“Definitely so,” Adam returned.
Kristopher turned to look at Tommy and Longineu again. “Still, you have to tell him. Now. If you wait until the Runners reach the caravan, it may be too late.”
Adam didn’t answer. Instead he turned to look in Tommy’s direction as well. Even from the distance, the sound of Tommy’s laughter felt like a soft caress along Adam’s skin. But further away, somewhere beyond the horizon, Runners were riding ever closer, ready to shatter this illusion he had created, and there was nothing Adam could do to stop them. The King of Elysia was living on borrowed time, and it was fast running out.
Four days later, the caravan reached Syriana at the noon hour. After resting for the midday meal, the slaves and soldiers began to build their night camp outside the city walls while Adam, Kristopher, and the other generals rode into the city to confer with the King of Syriana. Adam sat with eyes glazed over through most of the three-hour meeting, letting Kristopher handle the minutiae. Adam hated politics, and he hated the negotiation of the further terms of his protectorate even more. He could care less about whether Syriana would provide the caravan 200 sacks of grain or 250. He cared even less about whether he would receive 1000 yards of cloth or 1500. So he sat mostly silent, polite but quiet, wondering why this particular meeting felt more oppressive than usual. It took him a good hour to realize that his distaste was so much more particular today because he could be with Tommy instead. Right then and there, he decided that if he was to sit through a banquet tonight, Tommy would accompany him, tradition be damned.
So when he caught Tommy staring at him with a wistful expression on his face that evening, Adam finished fastening the black leather belt around his burgundy tunic and made his move.
“I would like it if you accompanied me to the banquet,” he said.
Tommy laughed a little where he sat at the table watching Adam dress. “Are you serious?”
“Of course. I was thinking there’s no real reason for you to remain here while the generals and I ride into the city. I want you to accompany me.”
“But Adam-”
“Unless you don’t want to. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
Tommy sat back in the chair and looked away from Adam. “Of course I want to come. I want to be near you always, you know that.”
“So come then.”
“I…I just….” Adam frowned in confusion at the sight of Tommy’s obvious discomfort.
“Are you nervous?”
“No, not nervous exactly. Just…Adam, I’ve grown accustomed to the way things are here in the caravan, being a slave, and now, your lover. But out there, out there…I don’t….”
“But you went out into the city in Batuur.”
“That was different. I went anonymously. I wore a black cloak the entire time. No one knew what colors I had on underneath it, and I went with your men. Everyone just assumed I was another soldier. But this, tonight, wouldn’t be the like that. If I turn up in the royal court with you, everyone will know exactly who and what I am. There will be no anonymity there.”
Adam felt his heart sinking. “You are ashamed to be seen with me.”
“No!” Tommy sat up from the table and hurried to Adam. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not ashamed, just a little afraid.” Tommy let out a sigh of frustration. “This is ridiculous. I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know that. I’ll come with you. I’m being ridiculous. Sooner or later, I am going to have to face the world once and for all.” Tommy smiled. “I’ll think of tonight as practice.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, I am.” Tommy reached up to press a quick kiss to Adam’s cheek. “Besides, how foolish would I be to sit alone here while handsome men throw themselves at you out there?”
Adam couldn’t help the laughter that spilled out of him. “Ah! Now we have the real reason behind your sudden desire to accompany me.”
“Oh, shut it,” Tommy replied with an adoring grin. “Now, what shall I wear? I don’t want you outshining me.”
After some minutes of deliberation, they ended up choosing one of the newer outfits Adam had ordered made for Tommy. The tunic was made from raw silk, and dyed a slightly richer hue than the standard blue that marked a worker-slave. The brown belt around Tommy’s waist was soft and supple, two inches wide and decorated with small, dark blue crystals. His brown sandals were new as well, lacing up to just below his knees. And his hair was pomaded a little, combed back from his face and curling against the back of his neck. He looked beautiful, but something was missing.
Adam went to one of the chests in the tent, opened a small leather box inside one of them and pulled a pin from one of them. It was about two inches in diameter, golden, with twelve gleaming sapphires set in a circle. When Adam fastened the pin to Tommy’s tunic, right below his left shoulder, and stepped back so that Tommy could see it in the mirror, he heard a loud gasp.
“Adam, this is beautiful.” Tommy ran a finger over the pin reverently, staring at himself in the mirror. “It’s too much.”
“No, it’s not. Do you like it?”
“Of course. I’d have to be a mad man not to like it.”
“Good.” Adam didn’t realize how nervous he’d been until Tommy’s reply sent relief flooding through him.
“Is this new? I’ve never seen you wear it before.”
“That’s because I’ve never worn it. It…it belonged to my mother.” Adam tensed as Tommy turned away from the mirror and moved closer to him. “I had some of the stones replaced and reset while we were in Batuur. I knew then that I would give the pin to you some day.”
“Adam….” Tommy looked floored.
“It’s one of the only things of hers that I have left.”
Tommy ran his fingers over the pin again. “Maybe you should keep it.”
“No. I want you to have it.” A long-ago memory tugged at Adam suddenly and he stared at the pin longingly.
“I remember lying in bed when I was younger, and my mother would sit beside me, teaching me the laws of Ilyria. And all the while the flame from the lamp on my bedside table would make the stones glitter against her dress. But I was such a wild thing then. I wanted nothing more than to run off and play with my wooden swords or ride my horse. If I had known that those moments were all I would ever get with her, I would have paid better attention, I would have treasured every second.” Adam’s voice broke on the last few words.
He started with surprise when long, slender arms wrapped tightly around his waist and his lover’s familiar scent filled his senses.
“I’m sorry,” Adam said when Tommy finally broke the embrace and stepped back. “I didn’t mean to get maudlin.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. I don’t mind. You can tell me anything.”
Adam stared into Tommy’s dark brown eyes and for a moment, he was ready to confess everything. But instead of revealing his secret, he pulled on a brave smile and held his hand out to Tommy.
“Come on. We cannot keep a king of Ilyria waiting.”
If the generals harbored any reservations about Tommy accompanying Adam to the Syrian court, they hid it spectacularly well. Kristopher himself masked any reaction he had to the sight of Tommy so richly attired and wearing what he knew to be Queen Leila’s old pin. And for that, Adam was grateful. He didn’t want Tommy to be any more discomfited than he already was.
They rode into the city together accompanied by a retinue of fifty armed soldiers. The soldiers were more for show than for anything else. Any attempted attack on Adam would be a suicide mission, and besides, nothing of the sort would happen here considering the amicability of the relations between Syriana and Elysia. When they reached the palace, Adam, Tommy and the generals dismounted and marched into the grand salon where the banquet was being held. Adam stood still as he was announced by the royal crier and broke into a smile when the Syrian king rose from his high chair and hurried quickly towards the guest of honor.
“Lord Protector, we are honored to have you in our palace once again.”
“And I am glad to return, Lord Desai,” Adam replied.
King Anoop smiled in acknowledgment before turning to Kristopher, who was standing right beside Adam.
“It is an honor to have you with us as well, Vice-Lord Allen.”
“The honor is entirely mine,” Kristopher replied.
Adam knew that he meant it, just like Adam had meant it when he’d said he was glad to return. He had long admired the King of Syriana. During the war with Syriana five years ago, the old king, Anoop’s father, had refused to surrender, even in the face of clear defeat. Every day, the man would send out more soldiers on what he knew to be suicide missions, doing his utmost to evade the inevitable. Adam had hated the exercise of daily skirmishes and the unnecessary loss of lives. One day, after a particularly bloody clash between the two sides, an errant arrow had found its way into the old king’s heart. That same evening, Prince Anoop had sent the official declaration of surrender. As Adam discovered in the ensuing negotiations, he had been pleading with his father for weeks to accept his defeat and end the daily suicide missions to no avail. Adam admired King Anoop’s concern for his soldiers and his citizens and the efficient, level-headed way he approached the negotiations. In five years, Lord Desai had never caused him a moment’s trouble, and the protectorate was approaching a mere formality at this point. Indeed, tomorrow’s talks would consist mostly of determining what percentage of the hold-over Elysian regiment would leave Syriana when the caravan moved on.
“And who would you be? I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
Adam broke free of his thoughts just in time to see Lord Desai tilt his chin slightly in Tommy’s direction. Tommy was standing two paces behind Adam as was the tradition with slaves. Adam didn’t like it, but he accepted it.
“My name is Thomas Joseph, my lord.”
“Thomas Joseph,” Lord Desai repeated. A moment later his eyes widened in realization. “Prince Thomas Joseph.” The king shot Adam a surprised look before turning back to Tommy. “I did not expect to have the pleasure of your presence in my palace. It is a delight to have another prince of Ilyria in our midst.”
Adam turned to watch Tommy bow. The volume in the room rose perceptibly, no doubt from excited whispers being passed back and forth at the news that the infamous prince, the one who’d been given to the Supreme Protector as tribute, was now in their midst. “And dressed so richly,” they must be saying, Adam thought. “Lovers perhaps?” “Most definitely.” Adam could just imagine the gossip already flowing through the room. He forcibly stifled the urge to wrap his arms around Tommy. Ridiculous impulse, he knew. Tommy didn’t need his protection. His lover was doing quite well on his own.
“You honor me too much, Lord Desai,” Tommy said as he bowed.
“Perish the thought.” Lord Desai turned back to Adam. “Come now, the meal will be served shortly.”
Adam heard the sound of hesitation Tommy made behind him. “Is there somewhere I should go?” Tommy asked uncertainly.
“Absolutely not,” Lord Desai replied before Adam could think of a reply. “You are a prince of Ilyria. Your place is here. You shall sit with the generals.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Adam nearly sighed aloud with gratitude and relief. Right then and there, he vowed to accept whatever terms Lord Desai advanced at tomorrow’s negotiations. Any man who would act with such grace and equanimity and flout tradition for Adam’s sake deserved nothing less from him.
The meal passed pleasantly enough. Spectacularly in fact, except for the fact that Tommy wasn’t sitting by Adam’s side. Syriana wasn’t known as the pleasure kingdom for nothing. The food and the wine were delicious to the point of decadence and the music filtering through the grand salon stirred Adam’s senses as much as the meal. When the food was cleared away, everyone walked to the throne room for the evening’s entertainment. Adam and Kris sat to Lord Desai’s right-hand side, and Tommy stood right behind Adam’s chair with his left hand surreptitiously pressed against the back of Adam’s neck.
When the dancers entered the room, a hush fell upon the audience. The performance was pure spectacle. Adam watched, completely riveted as they leapt and swayed across the floor, costumes dazzling as they swirled about in clouds of bright silk. He could sense Tommy’s excitement as well from the way his hand pressed a little harder against Adam’s skin. When the dance was done, the room erupted in applause, quieting only when the lead dancer fell to his knees before Adam.
“That was truly magnificent,” Adam said.
“It was our honor to entertain the Supreme Protector of Ilyria.”
The man’s voice had a soft, lyrical quality not unlike Tommy’s. Adam smiled as he noted how similar in build they were as well. This man, Adam, was certain, was never short on lovers, what with his stunning brown eyes and delicate features.
“What is your name?”
“Bradley, Lord Protector. My name is Bradley Bell.”
Adam gestured towards Kristopher who promptly handed him one of the purses of gold coins they’d brought specifically for this occasion. Adam motioned for the man to rise and approach him.
“Do accept this gift, Bradley, as a small token of my appreciation.”
“You are too kind.” Bradley accepted the purse from Adam slowly, letting his fingers skim Adam’s, and lingering far longer than necessary. “Is there anything at all that my lord desires?” Bradley asked, with his voice pitched low, invitation evident in his tone and sultry stare.
Adam took in the man’s knowing look and seductive stance and smiled. In another lifetime, he would have accepted the clear invitation. But not now. He felt Tommy’s hand clench into a tight fist against his skin as the seconds of silence ticked by.
“No. I have all I desire,” Adam replied.
Bradley cast an assessing look at Tommy. Adam looked up briefly to see that Tommy wasn’t shying away from the man’s gaze. Instead he was returning the look boldly as if daring him to attempt to take what Tommy had already claimed as his own. Bradley relented with a graceful smile and a small nod of acknowledgment in Tommy’s direction.
“Thank you once again, Lord Protector.”
With that, Bradley turned away and exited the throne room with the rest of the dancers. More performances followed, long into the night, so that by the time Adam and Tommy returned to the Elysian camp, it was almost dawn.
The small episode at the Syrian palace wasn’t mentioned at all until three days later, after the caravan had departed Syriana with two thousand of the three thousand soldiers that constituted the hold-over Elysian regiment in that kingdom. Adam had stayed true to his vow and acquiesced to Lord Desai’s requests.
They’d just finished with their evening meal and were already well into a second bottle of Syriana claret when Tommy mentioned it.
“The gall of that man,” Tommy began, sprawled on his back with a tipsy smile on his face. “Propositioning you while I was standing right there.”
Adam laughed and took a swig from the bottle before holding it out to Tommy. “He couldn’t have known we were lovers. And besides, he backed away the moment he realized it.”
Tommy sat up beside Adam and took the bottle. “He only did that after you denied his advances.”
“That was an act of charity on my part.”
“What?”
“Come on Tommy,” Adam said with a broad smile. “I saw your face. You would have put a dagger straight through that man’s heart if he hadn’t relented. I helped him along to save his skin.”
Tommy pouted a little and took a long swallow from the bottle in his hand. “So sweet of you to have been so concerned for his health.” The crooked grin that followed undercut any stridency there might have been in Tommy’s words.
Adam smiled brightly in response. “You are too much,” he said as he climbed off the bed and began to undress for the night.
Adam loved this best of all, these private moments between them, the easy way they talked and laughed after all the months of hesitation and fear that had come before. I could tell him now, Adam thought as he removed his sandals. Perhaps he had a better chance in a moment like this, while they were both a little drunk from wine and completely at ease. But what if he was wrong? What if his confession proved just as ill-fated in this moment as any other? Adam held his tongue. He wasn’t ready to let go of this happiness yet, however illusory it was.
He’d just tossed his tunic on a chair when a sound behind him made him turn around. Tommy had set the wine bottle onto the bedside table and was staring at Adam with an unmistakable look. Adam’s response was immediate.
“See something you like?” he asked with a sly grin, deliberating cocking his hips forward a little.
“Perhaps,” Tommy replied with a sly grin of his own. Then he stared at Adam intently for a moment before dropping his gaze. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“If I wanted to-I mean, if I asked you to-what I mean is, would you let me, uh-what would you say if I wanted to try this a different way?”
Adam stared in confusion for a moment as the words tumbled from Tommy in a staccato fashion. As Tommy continued to stare down, avoiding Adam’s gaze, twisting his fingers together nervously, Adam suddenly understood.
“You want to fuck me.”
Tommy blushed furiously and stole a glance at Adam. “Yes.”
Adam felt everything in him clench tight at the simple declaration. He was still trying to decide what the reaction meant by the time he sat down beside Tommy on the bed. He rested a hand on Tommy’s fidgeting ones.
“If you keep doing that, you’re going to snap your fingers in two.”
Tommy’s hands stilled. “Have you done that much before, what I asked, I mean?” Tommy’s gaze was trained on some spot over Adam’s right shoulder.
“No. Only twice before.”
“With who?”
“My first lover. I was fifteen then. He was in the military training school with Kristopher and me, but he was a year older. We were only together twice, and both times, he fucked me.”
“And never again since then?”
“No.”
“Because you hated it?”
“I didn’t hate it. I liked it just fine. I just…when you’re king, the dynamics are so much more complex. There are appearances to be maintained….and assumptions get made. And then there’s the matter of trust. I suppose I’ve never been with anyone I felt comfortable enough with to attempt this again.”
“But you would let me.” Tommy finally met Adam’s gaze then. “You would attempt it with me.” It wasn’t a question any longer.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because trust goes both ways, Tommy. You trust me enough to do this with me. And now, I trust you enough to do this with you.”
Adam’s words earned him a wide smile. He basked in the brilliance of it for a moment, just long enough for a disjointed thought to form in his mind. So beautiful…love…. Adam stiffened. Tommy didn’t need his love. And when the Runners arrived with their news, Tommy wouldn’t want it either.
“Adam?”
Adam shook himself free of the errant thought and smiled. “I think you have entirely too many clothes on.”
Tommy climbed off the bed and began to undress rapidly. As he watched, Adam moved in the bed, sliding the thin fabric of his undergarment down his legs and tossing it onto the floor. He looked up after he was done, to catch Tommy staring at him slack-jawed, almost as if he’d never seen Adam naked before. The unconcealed desire in his gaze quieted any doubts Adam had about what he was about to do. He finally understood that his initial reaction had been part fear and part anticipation. But this was Tommy. Tommy who giggled when he was drunk, who shifted and turned in his sleep like he was fighting a cage match. Tommy who made every moment feel like the rarest form of magic.
By the time they were both naked, all Adam felt was anticipation and a desire so intense, it almost hurt.
“Come on, Tommy,” Adam said, spreading his legs wide where he lay. “Make me feel it.”
Several minutes later, Adam was regretting the challenge behind his words. By then, he was half-mad with lust, moaning and clutching the bed coverings in a death grip while Tommy wreaked havoc on his body. It seemed Tommy had catalogued everything Adam had ever done to him, as if waiting for precisely this moment, waiting for the opportunity to tease and torment as he worked Adam open, first with his tongue, and then with oil-slick fingers thrusting deep and curving a little, so that he stroked along that spot that made the world tilt on its axis with each pass.
“Please…please….” Adam was only half-aware of the shameless way he was begging, writhing on his back, thrusting his hips forward to meet Tommy’s stroking fingers. “Damn it, Tommy. Stop teasing.”
“So impatient,” Tommy murmured. A moment later, his fingers pulled away only to be replaced with his cock. Adam hissed a little at the burning sensation of being stretched open for Tommy’s throbbing length. His lover wasn’t quite as long or thick as Adam was, but he was large enough, enough to make Adam whimper a little in his throat as he was filled completely.
When Tommy was finally thrust hilt-deep into him, Adam let out the breath he’d been holding. He shifted a little and gasped softly at the feeling of Tommy’s cock moving inside him. He knew that he should remain still and let his body adjust to being stretched open again after over a decade. He knew that, and yet he moved anyway, thrusting his hips back and forth, so that Tommy’s cock eased in and out of him a little.
“Fuck,” Tommy whispered. He gripped Adam’s thighs tighter and spread them even wider. Then he began to thrust, slowly, so slowly that Adam felt like he would go completely insane before they were done.
“Faster. Fuck me faster. Harder. Tommy, please.”
Tommy groaned loudly and settled into a sharper rhythm, shuttling his cock in and out of Adam’s ass with greater speed and force, making Adam feel it, just like he wanted. Adam arched his neck, pressing his head hard into the pillow beneath him, rising up to meet each thrust of Tommy’s cock into his body. He reached down to grip his leaking cock, stroking the aching length in time with each drive of Tommy’s cock into his ass.
“Beautiful…want you so much….” Tommy began to slow down as he watched Adam stroking his cock.
“No,” Adam begged, his voice low and strained. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Tommy moaned in response and picked up the pace again, speeding up his thrusts, fucking Adam harder and deeper with each stroke. Eventually, Tommy pushed his thighs even higher and wider, until they were almost touching his chest. Adam groaned as his muscles drew tight with tension but never once stopped stroking his cock. Instead he pulled harder, crying out as Tommy began to lose control, hips bucking against Adam’s body, and thrusts growing wild. Adam fell over the edge a second after Tommy did, gasping, trembling, crying out Tommy’s name as his body clenched down tight on the hard flesh stretching him wide.
Adam was still trembling when Tommy pulled away only to return with a damp cloth, murmuring the same soothing words Adam did when he did this for Tommy. Finally, they lay together in the bed, with Adam’s arm cradling Tommy’s body and Tommy’s head pressed against Adam’s chest. By then, Adam’s heart has slowed down to a more human pace and his breathing was no longer harsh and uneven. All there was now was the steady way Tommy’s chest rose and fell against Adam’s side and the muffled sounds from the night camp filling the quiet space in the tent. Moments like these, they were what Adam lived for now, and what he would lose once Tommy learned the truth. Later, Adam thought as he drifted off into oblivion. I’ll tell him later. Tomorrow. Always tomorrow.
Adam couldn’t say for certain how long he’d been asleep when he felt gentle hands shake him awake later that night. It could have been two hours or four, not that it mattered. Because the moment Adam opened his eyes and saw the stark look on Kristopher’s face, he knew. Kristopher held up a finger to his lips and shook his head when Adam opened his mouth to speak, brown eyes darting in Tommy’s direction. When Kristopher gestured towards the entrance to the tent, Adam nodded. Carefully, he untangled himself from Tommy’s sleeping body and climbed out of bed. Then he slipped on a pair of low sandals and threw on the tunic that had been discarded only a few hours before. Adam cast one last backward glance towards where Tommy lay sleeping before lifting the heavy fabric away and stepping out into the cold night air.
“It’s happened,” Kristopher declared simply. They were standing a few feet away from the entrance to Adam’s tent.
“No,” Adam whispered, denying the inevitable to the last.
“Runners reached the caravan an hour ago carrying the news. Lord Ratliff is dead. He died four weeks ago.”
“No, no, no….”
Kristopher moved closer to him and gripped Adam’s shoulders in a move to steady him. “Adam, calm yourself.”
“How? How can I?” Adam shook off Kristopher’s hold. “How did he die?”
“The Runners said the old king was murdered in his sleep. Suffocated to death, they said, and his oldest son, Prince Patrick, was the last one seen with him.”
“So the plan worked,” Adam murmured, lost in a gray haze. “I am fortune’s fool. For twenty years, I’ve waited for this moment, only to discover in the end that I no longer want revenge. Twenty years, Kristopher.” The laughter that escaped Adam’s throat was laced with self-derision and a touch of hysteria. “I am fortune’s fool!”
“Adam, you cannot lose faith now.”
“What else can I do? How do I tell him, Kristopher? How do I tell Tommy that his father is dead, and that it was my plan for revenge that killed him?”
Adam watched Kristopher’s eyes widen with surprise and his body grow completely still. He was staring over Adam’s shoulder like he’d just seen a ghost.
“What is it?”
“Adam…I think you just did.”
Adam’s heart launched into an inhuman rhythm, pounding so rapidly and forcefully that he was surprised it didn’t pound right out of his chest. He moved slowly, lost in a haze and speechless from trepidation, turning until he saw Tommy standing there, half-naked body framed by the entrance to the tent, heavy fabric clutched in a death grip. And his eyes. They burned with emotion, with shock and disbelief and anger. So much anger.
And just like that, Adam knew that his borrowed time had finally run out.
Author: radiogaga33
Pairing: Adam/Tommy, Adam/Kris (friendship)
Setting: Fantasy AU
Rating: NC-17 (NC-17 overall)
Word Count: ~7500
Beta: sweet_poeia
Disclaimers: No claims to any copyrights, trademarks, or any other intellectual property. I do not own these characters. They belong to themselves. This is purely a work of fiction. It never happened.
Author’s Notes: Yet another chapter with a lot happening. You'll notice that I've now added a chapter count. There are four chapters left to go after this one.
Warnings: Pseudo-slavefic.
Summary: Adam is a conquering king hell-bent on revenge against the ruler who destroyed his life as a child. He ends up taking the ruler’s son, Tommy, as tribute after winning the war between the kingdoms. Events unfold.
The Laws of Ilyria
Chapter 13
Adam, Lord Lambert, King of Elysia and Supreme Protector of Ilyria, was living on borrowed time, and he knew it.
He woke up each morning inundated by wild and contradictory thoughts, by memories of the last twenty years and new ones of the past few months on the road between Troainus and Elysia. He spent each day’s march in a state of agitation, mind whirling feverishly, breath tight and painful in his chest and gaze searching the horizon, waiting to see if the inevitable had finally happened, waiting to see if today was the day that the unmistaken silhouette of Runners carrying news would appear in the distance.
The Elysian caravan had been marching for nearly four months now, and Adam knew that soon enough, Lord Ratliff would die-if he wasn’t dead already. A part of him wanted to rejoice at that thought, wanted to exalt in the imminent culmination of his plan for revenge. The part of him that had stood weeping before his mother’s funeral pyre and had vowed retribution longed for the death of the king. But the other part of him, the one that lived and died by a certain prince’s moods, the one that now saw beauty in everything, dreaded Lord Ratliff’s demise. They warred constantly, those two halves, pulling at him, driving him half-mad each day as he watched and waited.
A new day found him sitting up in his bed at the break of dawn, eyes dark and gaze somber in the dimly-lit space of his tent, and shoulders slumped, the broad expanse of them weighed down by the thoughts colliding in his skull. He stiffened momentarily when a soft sigh reached his ears and the body next to his shifted restlessly beneath the velvet bed covering.
Tommy. As always, the thought of this man calmed him for a moment, filling him with happiness and peace and something else as well, something Adam wasn’t ready to admit to himself yet, let alone allow to crystallize into a concrete thought.
They had been living together as committed lovers for a week now, and in those seven days they’d discovered things about each other that amused and annoyed and delighted in equal measure. Tommy was neat and organized, almost obsessively so, and Adam, as he’d been informed in an exasperated tone, was untidy and forgetful. Tommy liked to sleep in the dark, and Adam preferred to keep the lamp blazing through the night. Adam talked in his sleep but slept still as a stone, while Tommy said nothing but shifted and turned for hours on end, jerking Adam awake more than once in the course of a night.
But they compromised, one bending for the other, both willing to change little things to please the other. That was why they now slept with the lamp turned low, just enough light to satisfy Adam and just enough darkness to please Tommy. That was why Adam now made a concerted effort to close the lids of the chests in his tent, to re-cork bottles and to leave his mud-caked sandals by the entrance. It was also the reason why Tommy turned a blind eye to the occasional piles of odds and ends strewn across the bedside table and even one day, left their clothes unfolded on the ground all night.
No matter what, each discovery was welcome, and each compromise eagerly embraced. There was nothing too great for Adam to do for the man who was very quickly becoming the focus of all his thoughts, and the center of his world. Weeks ago, he had mused that he would move heaven and earth if Tommy willed it so, but now he knew for a fact that he would. He would do anything to keep that playful little smile directed his way, to hear the childlike wonder in Tommy’s laughter.
And how they laughed. For a man who’d spent the last ten years of his life waging war, it was an unexpected reward, the laughter they shared so easily. Adam had laughed with Kristopher, of course, but not like this. As he’d recently discovered, to laugh with one’s lover was different from laughing with a friend. To share laugher like this, mirth threaded through with heat and intimacy, was something else entirely, something mesmerizing and intoxicating, something Adam would never get his fill of.
He’d realized it the night after they’d finally made love. That evening, at Adam’s invitation, Tommy had shown up with the only things he had, and Adam had taken one look at the miserable bundle of dull blue broadcloth and wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“It’s not so bad,” Tommy had said with a smile as he placed the neat, if unfashionable, bundle atop one of the chests in the tent.
“No, it’s not bad,” Adam replied, “it’s awful.”
Tommy chuckled briefly before replying. “I never heard you complain before,” he said with mock indignation.
“I was trying to woo you before. Now, that I’ve got you, I don’t have to hold my tongue any longer,” Adam replied with a cheeky grin, earning himself a laugh from Tommy.
“Is that so? Well, at least you’re honest,” Tommy replied with a wide grin. “But really, we can’t all be bastions of fashion like you.” He gestured at the chests in the tent. “Why you travel with so many things, I’ll never know.”
“I’ve been at war for ten years and I could’ve died at any time. And I thought to myself, ‘well, if I die, at least I shall do it well dressed.’”
That earned him another laugh, a sweet little trill of sound that filled Adam with happiness. But eventually, Tommy’s expression had turned somber and he’d pulled Adam to sit with him on the bed.
“Don’t talk of dying again,” he’d pleaded softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Neither do I.”
That had been six days ago. Since then, Adam had had new clothes made for Tommy by the workmen who travelled with the Elysian army. The tunics were cut from richer cloth and held together by soft leather belts, but they were all dyed the same blue that marked a worker-slave. As much as Adam wanted to see Tommy wear a different color, as much as he wanted to see Tommy wear the vibrant burgundy that marked the Elysian crest, he didn’t dare flout tradition. So, he’d smiled instead as Tommy admired the new clothes and thanked him, all the while trying not to think about what it meant for him to want so desperately to see Tommy draped in burgundy brocade instead of blue cotton.
“You’re doing it again.”
The mumbled words jerked Adam out of his reverie. He’d been looking down at Tommy for several minutes, eyes heavy-lidded in the dim light and staring blindly. Tommy’s head was pressed against his pillow and his face was turned in Adam’s direction, but his eyes remained tightly shut.
“Doing what?” Adam asked softly, even though he already knew what Tommy meant.
“You’re watching me sleep.”
“So what?”
“You have to stop. It’s strange.” Tommy drew out the sound of the word, lying perfectly still, with his eyes shut.
His sleep-roughened voice made Adam smile where he sat, looking down. “What if I can’t stop?” Adam asked. “What if I have to keep staring because I still can’t believe that you’re real, that you’re really here with me?”
Adam meant for the words to be light and casual, completely in jest. But as he spoke them, they transformed into something else entirely, something far more serious, taking on shadows of the thoughts that had been plaguing Adam long before Tommy woke up. The unexpected seriousness of his tone must have been palpable, because the moment Adam was done speaking, Tommy opened his eyes and shifted onto his side to face Adam in the bed.
“Is something troubling you?”
Adam hesitated.
“You know you can tell me anything and I’ll listen.”
“I know.”
“So, tell me, is something wrong?”
“No.” Adam swallowed hard, trying to displace the choking sensation the lie created as it fell from his lips.
Tommy stared at him intently for a long moment, seemingly debating whether or not to push further, to find the truth behind the thinly-veiled falsehood. Finally, his features relaxed and he sat up in the bed, still facing Adam.
“Give me your hand.”
The request confused Adam but he obeyed all the same, holding out his left hand. Tommy grasped Adam’s hand tightly and brought it to his chest, holding it there with his own right hand.
“Do you feel that?” he asked. Adam did. He felt the heat of Tommy’s skin and the steady drumbeat of his heart. Adam closely his eyes briefly and let the sensation of it seep into his own body, quieting the careening thoughts for a short while. It was only a moment’s reprieve, but Adam was willing to take anything he was offered.
“Yes,” Adam replied when he opened his eyes.
“See? I’m right here. I’m right here with you.” Tommy pressed his left hand to Adam’s chest, right over his heart like Adam’s hand was pressed over his. “Just like you are right here with me.”
Oracle, help me. Adam stared into Tommy’s eyes, taking in the earnest, caring expression he saw there. Did Tommy even realize what he was doing? Did he recognize the way they were seated facing each other, with their hands pressed against each other’s hearts at the same time? It was the beginning of the Ilyrian marriage rite. Four simple declarations and they could be joined together in the Oracle’s grace. For a moment, Adam let himself envision it. He imagined Tommy whispering “I marry you” three times and himself replying “I accept.”
“Adam?”
The vision dissolved. Adam shook himself free of the last ghostly shadows of it and flashed Tommy what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
“Come now. You should go back to sleep. It won’t be too long now before the morning bell is rung.”
“You’re right,” Tommy said as he settled back down into bed. “You need to sleep as well,” he declared before tugging Adam down beside him. Adam let himself be pulled down and rearranged so that Tommy’s head rested against his chest and Adam’s left arm was slung around Tommy’s shoulders.
Within minutes, Tommy was fast asleep again. Adam listened to the small noises he made as he slept and let the sweet little sounds overtake him, crowding out the worrying thoughts that had kept him awake before. In the morning. I’ll tell him tomorrow morning, he thought to himself sleepily, willfully ignoring the fact that dawn was breaking and that “tomorrow” was already “today.”
Adam didn’t tell Tommy in the morning. Or any other morning for that matter. For the first time in twenty years, he was truly afraid. He’d confessed as much to Tommy that night, a few weeks ago, only Tommy didn’t completely understand why. And Adam wanted so desperately to keep it that way, because the moment Tommy knew everything, the moment the Runners arrived with the news, everything between them would shatter. There was only so much Tommy could forgive Adam for.
Adam didn’t want it to end, this thing between them. He didn’t want to do without Tommy’s easy laughter, without the way Tommy looked at him, especially in those moments after the nightmares that had started coming more frequently now. The first time, Tommy had fetched Kristopher immediately and stood to the side while Kristopher held him. But after that, Tommy had soothed Adam himself, holding him until the darkness fell away, and all the while looking at Adam like he was the most treasured thing in the world. Adam had had his fair share of lovers, some for days, and others for months, but none had ever made him feel like this, like it was alright to reveal his weaknesses, like it was alright to trust completely, like anything-everything-was possible. Adam wasn’t ready to let go.
“You know, Adam, sometimes I wish you hadn’t made that boy your page.”
Adam turned to Kristopher in surprise. The caravan had made night camp three hours ago, and they were seated at a table outside Adam’s tent watching Tommy laughing as he and Longineu kicked a ball back and forth between them.
“Why do you say that? Has Longineu done something to displease you?”
“Of course not. Quite the contrary in fact. He’s a charming child. But seeing him here, laughing and playing, well, it makes me miss my own child that much more.”
Adam’s lips curled into a small, sad smile as he thought of his friend’s daughter. When they’d left Elysia two years ago, she’s been three years old. And already a wild little thing, with her father’s soft brown eyes and her mother’s honey-blonde hair.
“I’m sorry to keep you away from Isolde for so long.”
Kris frowned at him from across the table. “What are you sorry for? You’ve done nothing. This is the path we chose, you and I. And everyone knows a soldier’s life is no easy thing.”
“All the same, I’m sorry. But in a few days, we’ll arrive in Syriana, and in two months after that, we’ll be in Elysia and you’ll be with your wife and daughter again. For good this time. This campaign of mine is finished. There’ll be no more battles for us unless an enemy brings a war to our doorstep. It all ended in Troianus. It’s all over.”
“Is it? Is it really over?”
“What do you mean?”
Kristopher gestured in Tommy’s direction. “Have you told him yet?”
Adam visibly colored at Kristopher’s question. “What do you think?”
“Do you plan on telling him?”
“How would I tell him? Enlighten me, Kristopher. Explain to me how to go about telling my lover that his father is going to die-that he may already be dead-and that I caused it.”
“You’ll find a way.”
“I don’t see how when I don’t even know…I don’t even….” Adam voice trailed off.
“What do you want?” Kristopher asked after a few moments of silence. “Do you still want Lord Ratliff dead?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know! Sometimes I think I want him dead. My mother died because of what he did. And I couldn’t have spent ten years planning and then ten more years waging war across the six kingdoms only to discover in the end that what I desired all my life is no longer what I truly want.”
Adam ran a hand through his hair in an agitated gesture and sighed loudly. “But sometimes, I look at Tommy and I think ‘Lord Ratliff can live forever for all I care.’ I look at him and I realize that my revenge no longer matters because Tommy is more important. His happiness is more important to me than Lord Ratliff’s death. If anyone dared to harm so much as a single hair on Tommy’s head, I would cut that man down where he stood, and yet here I am, poised to do the greatest damage. And I swear to you, Kristopher, sometimes I can’t stand to look at myself in the mirror.”
It was Kristopher’s turn to sigh, it seemed. “Maybe…maybe you could send him back?”
“What would that accomplish? Lord Ratliff is most likely dead already. And even if he isn’t, he will be soon enough. We left Troianus four months ago. By now, every last person in the six kingdoms knows that Lord Ratliff was forced to give up his son. Everyone knows that the old king is finished, including his older sons. They will kill him whether Tommy returns or not, you know that. I pronounced Lord Ratliff’s death sentence the moment I took Tommy as tribute. Sending him back would accomplish nothing.”
“Then you have to tell him everything.”
“He’ll hate me.”
“Adam-”
“Kristopher, he’ll hate me. He’ll wonder if he ever really knew me at all. He’ll question everything I’ve ever said, everything I’ve ever done. He’ll think it was all an elaborate ruse, and he’ll hate me for it.”
“Or maybe he’ll forgive you.”
“There’s only so much a man can forgive. And Tommy has forgiven me plenty already. You know that. You were there.”
“He forgave you then and he’ll forgive you now.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“He loves you.”
Adam stared at Kristopher in shock. Then he let out a bitter laugh and shook his head sadly.
“Your longing for home must have driven you insane already. That would be the only reason I can think of for why you would say such a ridiculous thing.”
Kristopher stared at Adam for a long moment, seemingly on the verge of saying something more. He must have thought better of it because he leaned back finally and let out a wry smile.
“Maybe so,” Kristopher said.
“Definitely so,” Adam returned.
Kristopher turned to look at Tommy and Longineu again. “Still, you have to tell him. Now. If you wait until the Runners reach the caravan, it may be too late.”
Adam didn’t answer. Instead he turned to look in Tommy’s direction as well. Even from the distance, the sound of Tommy’s laughter felt like a soft caress along Adam’s skin. But further away, somewhere beyond the horizon, Runners were riding ever closer, ready to shatter this illusion he had created, and there was nothing Adam could do to stop them. The King of Elysia was living on borrowed time, and it was fast running out.
Four days later, the caravan reached Syriana at the noon hour. After resting for the midday meal, the slaves and soldiers began to build their night camp outside the city walls while Adam, Kristopher, and the other generals rode into the city to confer with the King of Syriana. Adam sat with eyes glazed over through most of the three-hour meeting, letting Kristopher handle the minutiae. Adam hated politics, and he hated the negotiation of the further terms of his protectorate even more. He could care less about whether Syriana would provide the caravan 200 sacks of grain or 250. He cared even less about whether he would receive 1000 yards of cloth or 1500. So he sat mostly silent, polite but quiet, wondering why this particular meeting felt more oppressive than usual. It took him a good hour to realize that his distaste was so much more particular today because he could be with Tommy instead. Right then and there, he decided that if he was to sit through a banquet tonight, Tommy would accompany him, tradition be damned.
So when he caught Tommy staring at him with a wistful expression on his face that evening, Adam finished fastening the black leather belt around his burgundy tunic and made his move.
“I would like it if you accompanied me to the banquet,” he said.
Tommy laughed a little where he sat at the table watching Adam dress. “Are you serious?”
“Of course. I was thinking there’s no real reason for you to remain here while the generals and I ride into the city. I want you to accompany me.”
“But Adam-”
“Unless you don’t want to. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
Tommy sat back in the chair and looked away from Adam. “Of course I want to come. I want to be near you always, you know that.”
“So come then.”
“I…I just….” Adam frowned in confusion at the sight of Tommy’s obvious discomfort.
“Are you nervous?”
“No, not nervous exactly. Just…Adam, I’ve grown accustomed to the way things are here in the caravan, being a slave, and now, your lover. But out there, out there…I don’t….”
“But you went out into the city in Batuur.”
“That was different. I went anonymously. I wore a black cloak the entire time. No one knew what colors I had on underneath it, and I went with your men. Everyone just assumed I was another soldier. But this, tonight, wouldn’t be the like that. If I turn up in the royal court with you, everyone will know exactly who and what I am. There will be no anonymity there.”
Adam felt his heart sinking. “You are ashamed to be seen with me.”
“No!” Tommy sat up from the table and hurried to Adam. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not ashamed, just a little afraid.” Tommy let out a sigh of frustration. “This is ridiculous. I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know that. I’ll come with you. I’m being ridiculous. Sooner or later, I am going to have to face the world once and for all.” Tommy smiled. “I’ll think of tonight as practice.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, I am.” Tommy reached up to press a quick kiss to Adam’s cheek. “Besides, how foolish would I be to sit alone here while handsome men throw themselves at you out there?”
Adam couldn’t help the laughter that spilled out of him. “Ah! Now we have the real reason behind your sudden desire to accompany me.”
“Oh, shut it,” Tommy replied with an adoring grin. “Now, what shall I wear? I don’t want you outshining me.”
After some minutes of deliberation, they ended up choosing one of the newer outfits Adam had ordered made for Tommy. The tunic was made from raw silk, and dyed a slightly richer hue than the standard blue that marked a worker-slave. The brown belt around Tommy’s waist was soft and supple, two inches wide and decorated with small, dark blue crystals. His brown sandals were new as well, lacing up to just below his knees. And his hair was pomaded a little, combed back from his face and curling against the back of his neck. He looked beautiful, but something was missing.
Adam went to one of the chests in the tent, opened a small leather box inside one of them and pulled a pin from one of them. It was about two inches in diameter, golden, with twelve gleaming sapphires set in a circle. When Adam fastened the pin to Tommy’s tunic, right below his left shoulder, and stepped back so that Tommy could see it in the mirror, he heard a loud gasp.
“Adam, this is beautiful.” Tommy ran a finger over the pin reverently, staring at himself in the mirror. “It’s too much.”
“No, it’s not. Do you like it?”
“Of course. I’d have to be a mad man not to like it.”
“Good.” Adam didn’t realize how nervous he’d been until Tommy’s reply sent relief flooding through him.
“Is this new? I’ve never seen you wear it before.”
“That’s because I’ve never worn it. It…it belonged to my mother.” Adam tensed as Tommy turned away from the mirror and moved closer to him. “I had some of the stones replaced and reset while we were in Batuur. I knew then that I would give the pin to you some day.”
“Adam….” Tommy looked floored.
“It’s one of the only things of hers that I have left.”
Tommy ran his fingers over the pin again. “Maybe you should keep it.”
“No. I want you to have it.” A long-ago memory tugged at Adam suddenly and he stared at the pin longingly.
“I remember lying in bed when I was younger, and my mother would sit beside me, teaching me the laws of Ilyria. And all the while the flame from the lamp on my bedside table would make the stones glitter against her dress. But I was such a wild thing then. I wanted nothing more than to run off and play with my wooden swords or ride my horse. If I had known that those moments were all I would ever get with her, I would have paid better attention, I would have treasured every second.” Adam’s voice broke on the last few words.
He started with surprise when long, slender arms wrapped tightly around his waist and his lover’s familiar scent filled his senses.
“I’m sorry,” Adam said when Tommy finally broke the embrace and stepped back. “I didn’t mean to get maudlin.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. I don’t mind. You can tell me anything.”
Adam stared into Tommy’s dark brown eyes and for a moment, he was ready to confess everything. But instead of revealing his secret, he pulled on a brave smile and held his hand out to Tommy.
“Come on. We cannot keep a king of Ilyria waiting.”
If the generals harbored any reservations about Tommy accompanying Adam to the Syrian court, they hid it spectacularly well. Kristopher himself masked any reaction he had to the sight of Tommy so richly attired and wearing what he knew to be Queen Leila’s old pin. And for that, Adam was grateful. He didn’t want Tommy to be any more discomfited than he already was.
They rode into the city together accompanied by a retinue of fifty armed soldiers. The soldiers were more for show than for anything else. Any attempted attack on Adam would be a suicide mission, and besides, nothing of the sort would happen here considering the amicability of the relations between Syriana and Elysia. When they reached the palace, Adam, Tommy and the generals dismounted and marched into the grand salon where the banquet was being held. Adam stood still as he was announced by the royal crier and broke into a smile when the Syrian king rose from his high chair and hurried quickly towards the guest of honor.
“Lord Protector, we are honored to have you in our palace once again.”
“And I am glad to return, Lord Desai,” Adam replied.
King Anoop smiled in acknowledgment before turning to Kristopher, who was standing right beside Adam.
“It is an honor to have you with us as well, Vice-Lord Allen.”
“The honor is entirely mine,” Kristopher replied.
Adam knew that he meant it, just like Adam had meant it when he’d said he was glad to return. He had long admired the King of Syriana. During the war with Syriana five years ago, the old king, Anoop’s father, had refused to surrender, even in the face of clear defeat. Every day, the man would send out more soldiers on what he knew to be suicide missions, doing his utmost to evade the inevitable. Adam had hated the exercise of daily skirmishes and the unnecessary loss of lives. One day, after a particularly bloody clash between the two sides, an errant arrow had found its way into the old king’s heart. That same evening, Prince Anoop had sent the official declaration of surrender. As Adam discovered in the ensuing negotiations, he had been pleading with his father for weeks to accept his defeat and end the daily suicide missions to no avail. Adam admired King Anoop’s concern for his soldiers and his citizens and the efficient, level-headed way he approached the negotiations. In five years, Lord Desai had never caused him a moment’s trouble, and the protectorate was approaching a mere formality at this point. Indeed, tomorrow’s talks would consist mostly of determining what percentage of the hold-over Elysian regiment would leave Syriana when the caravan moved on.
“And who would you be? I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
Adam broke free of his thoughts just in time to see Lord Desai tilt his chin slightly in Tommy’s direction. Tommy was standing two paces behind Adam as was the tradition with slaves. Adam didn’t like it, but he accepted it.
“My name is Thomas Joseph, my lord.”
“Thomas Joseph,” Lord Desai repeated. A moment later his eyes widened in realization. “Prince Thomas Joseph.” The king shot Adam a surprised look before turning back to Tommy. “I did not expect to have the pleasure of your presence in my palace. It is a delight to have another prince of Ilyria in our midst.”
Adam turned to watch Tommy bow. The volume in the room rose perceptibly, no doubt from excited whispers being passed back and forth at the news that the infamous prince, the one who’d been given to the Supreme Protector as tribute, was now in their midst. “And dressed so richly,” they must be saying, Adam thought. “Lovers perhaps?” “Most definitely.” Adam could just imagine the gossip already flowing through the room. He forcibly stifled the urge to wrap his arms around Tommy. Ridiculous impulse, he knew. Tommy didn’t need his protection. His lover was doing quite well on his own.
“You honor me too much, Lord Desai,” Tommy said as he bowed.
“Perish the thought.” Lord Desai turned back to Adam. “Come now, the meal will be served shortly.”
Adam heard the sound of hesitation Tommy made behind him. “Is there somewhere I should go?” Tommy asked uncertainly.
“Absolutely not,” Lord Desai replied before Adam could think of a reply. “You are a prince of Ilyria. Your place is here. You shall sit with the generals.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Adam nearly sighed aloud with gratitude and relief. Right then and there, he vowed to accept whatever terms Lord Desai advanced at tomorrow’s negotiations. Any man who would act with such grace and equanimity and flout tradition for Adam’s sake deserved nothing less from him.
The meal passed pleasantly enough. Spectacularly in fact, except for the fact that Tommy wasn’t sitting by Adam’s side. Syriana wasn’t known as the pleasure kingdom for nothing. The food and the wine were delicious to the point of decadence and the music filtering through the grand salon stirred Adam’s senses as much as the meal. When the food was cleared away, everyone walked to the throne room for the evening’s entertainment. Adam and Kris sat to Lord Desai’s right-hand side, and Tommy stood right behind Adam’s chair with his left hand surreptitiously pressed against the back of Adam’s neck.
When the dancers entered the room, a hush fell upon the audience. The performance was pure spectacle. Adam watched, completely riveted as they leapt and swayed across the floor, costumes dazzling as they swirled about in clouds of bright silk. He could sense Tommy’s excitement as well from the way his hand pressed a little harder against Adam’s skin. When the dance was done, the room erupted in applause, quieting only when the lead dancer fell to his knees before Adam.
“That was truly magnificent,” Adam said.
“It was our honor to entertain the Supreme Protector of Ilyria.”
The man’s voice had a soft, lyrical quality not unlike Tommy’s. Adam smiled as he noted how similar in build they were as well. This man, Adam, was certain, was never short on lovers, what with his stunning brown eyes and delicate features.
“What is your name?”
“Bradley, Lord Protector. My name is Bradley Bell.”
Adam gestured towards Kristopher who promptly handed him one of the purses of gold coins they’d brought specifically for this occasion. Adam motioned for the man to rise and approach him.
“Do accept this gift, Bradley, as a small token of my appreciation.”
“You are too kind.” Bradley accepted the purse from Adam slowly, letting his fingers skim Adam’s, and lingering far longer than necessary. “Is there anything at all that my lord desires?” Bradley asked, with his voice pitched low, invitation evident in his tone and sultry stare.
Adam took in the man’s knowing look and seductive stance and smiled. In another lifetime, he would have accepted the clear invitation. But not now. He felt Tommy’s hand clench into a tight fist against his skin as the seconds of silence ticked by.
“No. I have all I desire,” Adam replied.
Bradley cast an assessing look at Tommy. Adam looked up briefly to see that Tommy wasn’t shying away from the man’s gaze. Instead he was returning the look boldly as if daring him to attempt to take what Tommy had already claimed as his own. Bradley relented with a graceful smile and a small nod of acknowledgment in Tommy’s direction.
“Thank you once again, Lord Protector.”
With that, Bradley turned away and exited the throne room with the rest of the dancers. More performances followed, long into the night, so that by the time Adam and Tommy returned to the Elysian camp, it was almost dawn.
The small episode at the Syrian palace wasn’t mentioned at all until three days later, after the caravan had departed Syriana with two thousand of the three thousand soldiers that constituted the hold-over Elysian regiment in that kingdom. Adam had stayed true to his vow and acquiesced to Lord Desai’s requests.
They’d just finished with their evening meal and were already well into a second bottle of Syriana claret when Tommy mentioned it.
“The gall of that man,” Tommy began, sprawled on his back with a tipsy smile on his face. “Propositioning you while I was standing right there.”
Adam laughed and took a swig from the bottle before holding it out to Tommy. “He couldn’t have known we were lovers. And besides, he backed away the moment he realized it.”
Tommy sat up beside Adam and took the bottle. “He only did that after you denied his advances.”
“That was an act of charity on my part.”
“What?”
“Come on Tommy,” Adam said with a broad smile. “I saw your face. You would have put a dagger straight through that man’s heart if he hadn’t relented. I helped him along to save his skin.”
Tommy pouted a little and took a long swallow from the bottle in his hand. “So sweet of you to have been so concerned for his health.” The crooked grin that followed undercut any stridency there might have been in Tommy’s words.
Adam smiled brightly in response. “You are too much,” he said as he climbed off the bed and began to undress for the night.
Adam loved this best of all, these private moments between them, the easy way they talked and laughed after all the months of hesitation and fear that had come before. I could tell him now, Adam thought as he removed his sandals. Perhaps he had a better chance in a moment like this, while they were both a little drunk from wine and completely at ease. But what if he was wrong? What if his confession proved just as ill-fated in this moment as any other? Adam held his tongue. He wasn’t ready to let go of this happiness yet, however illusory it was.
He’d just tossed his tunic on a chair when a sound behind him made him turn around. Tommy had set the wine bottle onto the bedside table and was staring at Adam with an unmistakable look. Adam’s response was immediate.
“See something you like?” he asked with a sly grin, deliberating cocking his hips forward a little.
“Perhaps,” Tommy replied with a sly grin of his own. Then he stared at Adam intently for a moment before dropping his gaze. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“If I wanted to-I mean, if I asked you to-what I mean is, would you let me, uh-what would you say if I wanted to try this a different way?”
Adam stared in confusion for a moment as the words tumbled from Tommy in a staccato fashion. As Tommy continued to stare down, avoiding Adam’s gaze, twisting his fingers together nervously, Adam suddenly understood.
“You want to fuck me.”
Tommy blushed furiously and stole a glance at Adam. “Yes.”
Adam felt everything in him clench tight at the simple declaration. He was still trying to decide what the reaction meant by the time he sat down beside Tommy on the bed. He rested a hand on Tommy’s fidgeting ones.
“If you keep doing that, you’re going to snap your fingers in two.”
Tommy’s hands stilled. “Have you done that much before, what I asked, I mean?” Tommy’s gaze was trained on some spot over Adam’s right shoulder.
“No. Only twice before.”
“With who?”
“My first lover. I was fifteen then. He was in the military training school with Kristopher and me, but he was a year older. We were only together twice, and both times, he fucked me.”
“And never again since then?”
“No.”
“Because you hated it?”
“I didn’t hate it. I liked it just fine. I just…when you’re king, the dynamics are so much more complex. There are appearances to be maintained….and assumptions get made. And then there’s the matter of trust. I suppose I’ve never been with anyone I felt comfortable enough with to attempt this again.”
“But you would let me.” Tommy finally met Adam’s gaze then. “You would attempt it with me.” It wasn’t a question any longer.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because trust goes both ways, Tommy. You trust me enough to do this with me. And now, I trust you enough to do this with you.”
Adam’s words earned him a wide smile. He basked in the brilliance of it for a moment, just long enough for a disjointed thought to form in his mind. So beautiful…love…. Adam stiffened. Tommy didn’t need his love. And when the Runners arrived with their news, Tommy wouldn’t want it either.
“Adam?”
Adam shook himself free of the errant thought and smiled. “I think you have entirely too many clothes on.”
Tommy climbed off the bed and began to undress rapidly. As he watched, Adam moved in the bed, sliding the thin fabric of his undergarment down his legs and tossing it onto the floor. He looked up after he was done, to catch Tommy staring at him slack-jawed, almost as if he’d never seen Adam naked before. The unconcealed desire in his gaze quieted any doubts Adam had about what he was about to do. He finally understood that his initial reaction had been part fear and part anticipation. But this was Tommy. Tommy who giggled when he was drunk, who shifted and turned in his sleep like he was fighting a cage match. Tommy who made every moment feel like the rarest form of magic.
By the time they were both naked, all Adam felt was anticipation and a desire so intense, it almost hurt.
“Come on, Tommy,” Adam said, spreading his legs wide where he lay. “Make me feel it.”
Several minutes later, Adam was regretting the challenge behind his words. By then, he was half-mad with lust, moaning and clutching the bed coverings in a death grip while Tommy wreaked havoc on his body. It seemed Tommy had catalogued everything Adam had ever done to him, as if waiting for precisely this moment, waiting for the opportunity to tease and torment as he worked Adam open, first with his tongue, and then with oil-slick fingers thrusting deep and curving a little, so that he stroked along that spot that made the world tilt on its axis with each pass.
“Please…please….” Adam was only half-aware of the shameless way he was begging, writhing on his back, thrusting his hips forward to meet Tommy’s stroking fingers. “Damn it, Tommy. Stop teasing.”
“So impatient,” Tommy murmured. A moment later, his fingers pulled away only to be replaced with his cock. Adam hissed a little at the burning sensation of being stretched open for Tommy’s throbbing length. His lover wasn’t quite as long or thick as Adam was, but he was large enough, enough to make Adam whimper a little in his throat as he was filled completely.
When Tommy was finally thrust hilt-deep into him, Adam let out the breath he’d been holding. He shifted a little and gasped softly at the feeling of Tommy’s cock moving inside him. He knew that he should remain still and let his body adjust to being stretched open again after over a decade. He knew that, and yet he moved anyway, thrusting his hips back and forth, so that Tommy’s cock eased in and out of him a little.
“Fuck,” Tommy whispered. He gripped Adam’s thighs tighter and spread them even wider. Then he began to thrust, slowly, so slowly that Adam felt like he would go completely insane before they were done.
“Faster. Fuck me faster. Harder. Tommy, please.”
Tommy groaned loudly and settled into a sharper rhythm, shuttling his cock in and out of Adam’s ass with greater speed and force, making Adam feel it, just like he wanted. Adam arched his neck, pressing his head hard into the pillow beneath him, rising up to meet each thrust of Tommy’s cock into his body. He reached down to grip his leaking cock, stroking the aching length in time with each drive of Tommy’s cock into his ass.
“Beautiful…want you so much….” Tommy began to slow down as he watched Adam stroking his cock.
“No,” Adam begged, his voice low and strained. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Tommy moaned in response and picked up the pace again, speeding up his thrusts, fucking Adam harder and deeper with each stroke. Eventually, Tommy pushed his thighs even higher and wider, until they were almost touching his chest. Adam groaned as his muscles drew tight with tension but never once stopped stroking his cock. Instead he pulled harder, crying out as Tommy began to lose control, hips bucking against Adam’s body, and thrusts growing wild. Adam fell over the edge a second after Tommy did, gasping, trembling, crying out Tommy’s name as his body clenched down tight on the hard flesh stretching him wide.
Adam was still trembling when Tommy pulled away only to return with a damp cloth, murmuring the same soothing words Adam did when he did this for Tommy. Finally, they lay together in the bed, with Adam’s arm cradling Tommy’s body and Tommy’s head pressed against Adam’s chest. By then, Adam’s heart has slowed down to a more human pace and his breathing was no longer harsh and uneven. All there was now was the steady way Tommy’s chest rose and fell against Adam’s side and the muffled sounds from the night camp filling the quiet space in the tent. Moments like these, they were what Adam lived for now, and what he would lose once Tommy learned the truth. Later, Adam thought as he drifted off into oblivion. I’ll tell him later. Tomorrow. Always tomorrow.
Adam couldn’t say for certain how long he’d been asleep when he felt gentle hands shake him awake later that night. It could have been two hours or four, not that it mattered. Because the moment Adam opened his eyes and saw the stark look on Kristopher’s face, he knew. Kristopher held up a finger to his lips and shook his head when Adam opened his mouth to speak, brown eyes darting in Tommy’s direction. When Kristopher gestured towards the entrance to the tent, Adam nodded. Carefully, he untangled himself from Tommy’s sleeping body and climbed out of bed. Then he slipped on a pair of low sandals and threw on the tunic that had been discarded only a few hours before. Adam cast one last backward glance towards where Tommy lay sleeping before lifting the heavy fabric away and stepping out into the cold night air.
“It’s happened,” Kristopher declared simply. They were standing a few feet away from the entrance to Adam’s tent.
“No,” Adam whispered, denying the inevitable to the last.
“Runners reached the caravan an hour ago carrying the news. Lord Ratliff is dead. He died four weeks ago.”
“No, no, no….”
Kristopher moved closer to him and gripped Adam’s shoulders in a move to steady him. “Adam, calm yourself.”
“How? How can I?” Adam shook off Kristopher’s hold. “How did he die?”
“The Runners said the old king was murdered in his sleep. Suffocated to death, they said, and his oldest son, Prince Patrick, was the last one seen with him.”
“So the plan worked,” Adam murmured, lost in a gray haze. “I am fortune’s fool. For twenty years, I’ve waited for this moment, only to discover in the end that I no longer want revenge. Twenty years, Kristopher.” The laughter that escaped Adam’s throat was laced with self-derision and a touch of hysteria. “I am fortune’s fool!”
“Adam, you cannot lose faith now.”
“What else can I do? How do I tell him, Kristopher? How do I tell Tommy that his father is dead, and that it was my plan for revenge that killed him?”
Adam watched Kristopher’s eyes widen with surprise and his body grow completely still. He was staring over Adam’s shoulder like he’d just seen a ghost.
“What is it?”
“Adam…I think you just did.”
Adam’s heart launched into an inhuman rhythm, pounding so rapidly and forcefully that he was surprised it didn’t pound right out of his chest. He moved slowly, lost in a haze and speechless from trepidation, turning until he saw Tommy standing there, half-naked body framed by the entrance to the tent, heavy fabric clutched in a death grip. And his eyes. They burned with emotion, with shock and disbelief and anger. So much anger.
And just like that, Adam knew that his borrowed time had finally run out.